we cleave the memories from our minds like we scrap the cancer off our bones.

it is quite a new experience: fighting (that which hurts, that which helps) how dangerous we are to ourselves, how easily we damn ourselves

as bitterness settles we settle (with our lives): hoping that something else could have been done. (this thought is something like regret—stronger) still we fight the changes we continue to kill the metaphors on our tongues we have a need to destroy every moment that makes us remember.

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